Pride
by Mnemosyne's Elegy
Summary: Yato knows better than to get too attached, but somehow Yukine becomes his. His kid. And he doesn't know anything about what a father should be, but he's doing his best. It's hard, it's really hard, but he just wants Yukine to have the father neither of them had. They're really growing up, and he's so proud of this kid. He wonders if this is what family is supposed to feel like.
1. Part 1

**Note: I've been meaning to get a little more involved around here again and get back to answering PMs and all of that, but work has kept me busy and then my sister got side-swiped by an 18-wheeler. She's fine, but everyone is shaken up and it's been a really long week. Guys, if you're driving, be really careful out on the roads. It's really scary how fast things can go wrong. Stay safe.**

* * *

**Part 1**

* * *

Yato allows himself exactly five seconds to lay on his back on the hard, cold ground with the winter breeze slicing through his jersey like knives to shred the heart beating beneath while one lone tear works its way down his face.

"That's so…"

And then he's jumping to his feet and scrubbing at his face while he locks the memories away. It's dangerous to get lost in a shinki's memories for too long, to pry too deep and think too hard and care too much. Those are things it's too dangerous for a shinki to ever know, and it is a god's burden and secret to carry the lives and deaths and names of their shinki. It's dangerous to let anything slip, and it's too easy to be crushed beneath the weight of someone else's memories. Better to lock them away and focus on the present.

Besides, Yato still has that human girl watching and waiting. He thinks, a little uncharitably, that she _has _managed to find him a shinki after all, even if she tried to feed him to an ayakashi first. But Hiyori hasn't forgotten him yet and that's more than he can say about any other human, so he turns back to her.

Still, there's something about this Yukine that draws Yato back like a moth circling a flame. He tries to deny it to himself, but he knows it's because they've both had problems with their fathers. He feels a strange kinship with this tiny, naïve slip of a child.

(Although, to be fair, Yato's father probably isn't half as bad as Yukine's. He's kept Yato alive for centuries, after all. He sometimes praises Yato when he's good. He's really only so bad when Yato is misbehaving, and that's pretty much Yato's fault anyway. (Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

Yukine, it turns out, is a lousy little brat. He's angry at the world and rages against his death and _hates, hates, hates_. It leaves Yato off-kilter and unsteady, with a permanent headache and heartache that starts as a twinge here, a prick there, and quickly escalates to a sharp, unceasing pain like his head is going to explode and his bones are being crushed and his heart is being constricted further and further until it has to fight for every beat.

And that's _before _the stinging. Yukine steals and breaks things and lies and even tries to grope Hiyori in the night, and a sharp, biting burn latches its teeth into the back of Yato's neck. It chews at his life hungrily, the life he used to give Yukine his name and now binds them together, and spreads across his skin in purple storm clouds. Yukine is tearing him apart from the inside out, but Yato grits his teeth and bears it.

He really ought to just release the kid, he knows. Yukine has set a course for self-destruction, and he's hell-bent on taking Yato down with him. He's at a difficult, dangerous age. He's out of control. He's…

Really, Yato should release him. He knows what will happen if he lets the corruption take root too deep. He killed an entire clan of Bishamon's shinki to save her from that fate, didn't he? He's always held her in a bit of contempt for how she was going to let herself die even once her shinki were far beyond saving, but… But now it feels like he's doing the same thing, even though he knows better.

It's just that… He feels like he understands the kid. He understands the resentment and rebellion, the stark unfairness and injustice of it all, the feeling of having nothing and being _alone_. He wants to show Yukine that there's another way, that it's not as hopeless as it seems. He doesn't want to give up on Yukine, because the kid never had a chance in life and no other god is going to give him one now when he's so out of control and Yato _knows _there's a good kid buried underneath all that anger somewhere. He doesn't want to give up on that.

(The world already gave up on Yato. No one's going to hand him a second chance, a do-over. He wants to give Yukine the chance that no one will ever give him. (Really, Yaboku, did you honestly think you could change your name and run away and stand on your own two feet? You will always be a god of calamity and bring misfortune wherever you go, isn't that right?))

So he tries to provide the kid with some guidance. It's not like Yukine had a great father to teach him right from wrong in life, but at least he has some idea. Yato has no idea how to go about simulating such guidance, but he tries. When he feels the stings, he scolds Yukine and looks for the source. When he catches a crime in progress, he steps in to put a stop to it. When sparkly new trinkets appear out of nowhere, he confiscates them and asks where they came from.

He tries, he really does, but it seems like his efforts are undermined at every turn. Hiyori means well, but she's too sympathetic and lets Yukine get away with things. It doesn't help that Yato doesn't really know how to be responsible for a kid or provide for a shinki when he can barely take care of himself half the time. Sleeping in the cold dark and eating scraps and taking 'lame' jobs does not endear him to Yukine. He's pretty sure Yukine hates him. He can feel it.

And Yato is not exactly the best guidepost for this. He's a god to whom the rules of right and wrong do not apply, trying to teach them to an obstinate child who doesn't want to abide by them either.

(Gods can do no wrong. Everything they do is just. Everything he does is just, it's supposed to be just, so why does it always feel like he's _wrong_? (Gods aren't bound by the rules of right and wrong, so you can do whatever you want. As long as it's what I want. Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

He tries to show Yukine a little of the good, too. When Yukine draws a proper borderline or slices neatly through an ayakashi, Yato makes sure to praise him. Even just a simple 'good job' should mean something. Sometimes it seems like that gets through to the kid a little, but never for long.

(Why isn't it enough? Yato would have killed for that kind of praise and attention when he was a child. He _did _kill for it. (What a good boy, Yaboku. Why don't you go play some more and bring Daddy more trophies?))

Maybe Yukine is too far away to be reached, too far away to listen. Or maybe it's just that Yato has never learned how to communicate effectively. He doesn't know how to express himself or find the right words. In the end, he always seems to say the wrong thing and make things worse.

(It's pretty pathetic, really, that he's lived for centuries and still can't communicate like a normal person. Maybe it's because he never really had anyone to communicate with. Aside from Father and Hiiro. He's always had them, he supposes. (Yaboku, what did I tell you about talking to strangers? Don't get involved with other people. You have me and Hiiro, don't you?))

The truth is that he has no idea how to fix the problem, so once he's tried everything he can think of and still comes up short, he pushes it to the breaking point instead. He pushes it until it snaps to see if it's easier to break and rebuild than repair what's so warped and cracked.

He takes Yukine to school.

"Coming here might detonate Yukine too," he mumbles, but doesn't elaborate when Hiyori asks.

There's a storm brewing outside, dark and malevolent and hungry, and he wonders which brat's it is.

Manabu doesn't cross the line. He stops and the blade in his hand falls to the ground and the ayakashi hovering over him dissipates. He'll be okay.

But Yukine… Yukine is realizing something. Yato's chest is tight with pain and grief and desperation and _loss_, and he knows that Yukine is finally understanding what he really wants and why he can't have it.

(Yukine could have Yato, doesn't really have to be alone even if he doesn't belong to the Near Shore anymore, but Yato will never be enough. (No one else wants you, isn't that right, Yaboku? No one but us.))

And then there's _anger_, and white-hot pain lances through Yato and it's the breaking point that finally shatters him. Everything dissolves into a haze of burning and agony, and he floats in and out of consciousness.

He has just enough presence of mind to shake his head when Kazuma—where did Kazuma come from? That blonde bitch will be furious—urges him to release Yukine's name. He's come this far, and it's too late to turn back now. He can't give up. He'll fight for this kid to the end, hang on as long as possible to give him the chance to save himself. They will live or die together, and it has been so, so long since Yato has had someone worth dying for.

The ablution is a blur, a nightmare. Yukine is crossing the line—_so close _to crossing the line—and each step he takes towards the other side sends agony tearing through Yato's body. Yato spasms and his lungs burble with blood and iron floods his mouth as crimson spatters the ground.

Yukine's name is disappearing, but Yato is spent and barely has enough life left to think at all, much less perform a miracle.

"Yukine!"

Thank goodness for Hiyori. Her words are giving Yukine pause and strengthening his name, but they aren't enough, not quite. But they give Yato the determination to dig up the very last dredges of his strength to lever himself up and exhort the kid to _live_.

"But I found you and gave you a person's name, so…live as a person. Live, Yukine!"

(No matter how difficult or painful life is, people should appreciate what it means to be alive at all. (I'm your lifeline, Yaboku. So be a good boy and do as I say and I'll let you live. _Isn't that right?_))

Yukine turns around and drags himself back away from that dangerous line one step at a time. The relief is crushing.

(Finally, Yato has managed to say the right thing. Finally, he has managed to rescue something rather than destroying it. (_Cull the herd_, Yaboku.))

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Yato slumps back against the ground and lets out a shaky breath as Yukine sobs and apologizes and confesses every sin. The kid cries and screams through the night until dawn breaks over the horizon, but he _does it_. In the end, he wins.

And Yato is… Yato is _proud _of him. He's proud that Yukine pulled himself back from the line and is finally ready to let go of the hate and anger. Yato knows things will be okay now.

He catches a glimpse of the sweet, innocent kid—_his _kid, he thinks fiercely—that was buried inside Yukine all along. He knew it was there somewhere, that there was something worth saving, and he wants to cradle it in his arms and protect it from the harshness of the world and nurture it and watch it grow.

He's glad that he didn't give up on it. He's glad he didn't give up on Yukine.

* * *

Everything changes after the ablution. Yukine is still a snarky brat and complains and insults Yato at every turn, but the sharp edge has been filed off. He starts a part-time job with Daikoku to earn the money to replace what he stole, he begins getting school lessons from Hiyori, and he doesn't sting Yato again, not even once. He's starting to grow up a little bit.

He doesn't seem to hate Yato anymore either, which is also a plus.

He's growing on Yato, even with all the sass, and it's a little scary. Yato knows better than to get too attached, even if it's what he craves more than anything.

(If you get too attached, it hurts more when they forget or leave. And getting too close always seems to turn out badly. Just look at what happened to Sakura. (Everyone always leaves you, Yaboku. Everyone but us.))

It's a couple weeks later, and Yato is perched on the windowsill, wedged in sideways with the night breeze tugging at his hair as he watches his kid sleeping in the circle of light the lamp casts over his futon.

When did Yukine stop being _a _kid, a lost soul snatched up to serve as a shinki, and become _his _kid? Yato wonders if it's Hiyori's fault.

_"Yato's still here for you, Yukine! Surely you heard him too! 'He might be a lousy little punk…but I found and named him! I'm going to reforge the Sekki!' Those words were almost like a father's!"_

Or maybe it was inevitable. They think he's messing around when he says he fell for Yukine at first sight, but there _was _an instant spark. A connection. Yato saw something in Yukine, maybe a piece of himself buried in the kid's chest.

He tears his gaze away and looks outside at the night closing in. It's dark. The kind of dark Yukine fears, with only a sliver of silver moon high in the sky and a smattering of stars spangling the velvet darkness.

He's lived for centuries with little meaningful contact outside of Father and Hiiro. He's only known Yukine and Hiyori for a few weeks, and suddenly they've turned his life upside down. Weeks are but a fleeting moment in the context of centuries—just a small candlelit flame that burns bright and flickers out just as quickly. They shouldn't be able to affect him like this. Is he really so desperate that such a tiny moment, such small little lives, can steal his heart?

He can't let go of Hiyori, because she's the only human who cares enough to remember him. And Yukine…

Yukine isn't his son, not really, but something close enough. His _kid_, whatever that means. Someone to shelter under his wing and look after and take pride in. Yato used his very life to give Yukine his name, so maybe that's where the bond comes from.

But Yato doesn't know anything about being a father, not even just a sort-of-almost father. All he knows is his own father, and…he would never want to raise a kid that way.

(For all the excuses he makes for Father, he knows he'd never want to put another kid through what Father did to him. Does to him. (Time to come home, Yaboku. We love you. We're the only ones who do, isn't that right?))

It's a bad idea. He's getting too attached and much too quickly. He can't care for a kid. He's too sharp and dangerous and old, a naked blade that's always thirsty for blood and will slice open anyone who gets too close. Yukine, for all his gruffness, is still a soft, innocent little thing, and Hiyori is much too kind for Yato's world. Even if Father and Hiiro don't decide they're a bad influence and step in, they'll eventually get cut on Yato's sharp edges.

(Getting attached always turns out badly, because Yato always seems to hurt anyone who gets too close. He can't help it. It's just the way he is. (Well, of course, Yaboku. You're a god of calamity, aren't you? It's silly to think you can make people happy when you only ever bring them pain and death.))

Yato's fingers curl tight and bunch the fabric of his pants. Really, the best thing to do is probably to leave Kofuku and Daikoku, cut his ties with Hiyori, and find Yukine a new, better master and release him. He _should_, but…

"Yato?" murmurs a sleepy voice from inside the room.

Yato startles and nearly topples right off his precarious perch as he whips his head around. Yukine is blinking at him blearily, eyes half-squinted with sleep, from his nest of blankets.

"Sorry," Yato says. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Can't sleep?" Yukine asks around a yawn.

"Mm, something like that. It's not a big deal."

"Is the lamp too bright? Should I turn it off?"

A quiet fear pinches Yato's chest and his heart does a funny flip-flop with an extra loud _thump _for good measure, but the offer is genuine despite Yukine's nerves.

"No, that's alright," Yato says. He hops off the sill into the room and slides the window shut. His footsteps whisper against the floorboards as he moves to Yukine's bedside and bends to tug the blanket up again. "Go back to sleep, Yukine," he murmurs fondly, and the kid's eyelids are already dipping shut again as he nods off.

Yato slips into his own bed and pulls the covers over his head—because that lamp really _is _too bright—and smiles into the safety of the darkness. Maybe he _should _let Yukine go, but he's a selfish god and he wants to keep the kid.

Yukine deserves to have a proper father figure. Yato is probably never going to be one of those, but the least he can do is try to give Yukine at least a little piece of what life gave neither of them.

* * *

Yato and Yukine settle into new routines and learn how to work together. Yato is, admittedly, still not the best at providing for his shinki so there's quite a bit of mooching off Kofuku and Daikoku and Hiyori, but he looks out for Yukine and teaches him things. He still sucks at communicating too, but he grins and praises Yukine for every job well done. It's worth it to see the kid flush and look away and grumble halfheartedly.

Despite his total lack of communication skills and inability to deal with serious emotional issues while being, well, _serious_, he takes every pang in his chest seriously and sits Yukine down and tells the kid to _talk _to him. And, amazingly, Yukine _does_, even if it takes a bit of prodding sometimes.

Yukine even makes friends with another shinki, which is good even if Yato has to keep an eye on him because his new friend just so happens to be one of _Bishamon's _shinki. But then Suzuha dies and Yato, being the horrible communicator that he is, can't seem to just _tell _Yukine that. He wants to protect the kid from those ugly parts of the world, but it backfires pretty spectacularly when Yukine goes investigating and finds out himself and then somehow manages to wind up right in the middle of Bishamon's place and get Kazuma exiled while yelling at the psycho bitch.

He is, understandably, a mess. Yato has no real idea of how to handle this, aside from staring at the mound of blankets for a few minutes and then slinking downstairs to sip a beer and possibly get drunk because his whole chest is cramping painfully and it _hurts_. Hiyori does not approve, but Yato tried opening his mouth once or twice and only managed to make things worse.

(He wonders if he should really be up there trying to comfort the kid, but… Well, maybe he'll do less damage down here. (You bring misfortune wherever you go. You know that, don't you, Yaboku?))

This, too, backfires when he's too out of sorts from Yukine's haywire emotions to adequately protect Hiyori when Bishamon's shinki shows up with a weapon. So now Hiyori's soul is conspicuously missing, and he's going to _hunt that psycho bitch down _and rescue her.

But he messes up again and gets himself trapped in a prison of borderlines and now he's stuck and going to die here, and, _right_, that's why he's spent centuries avoiding this crazy bitch. There's nothing to do but brace himself in defiance of the mammoth blade coming down on him.

But then Yukine is suddenly, impossibly, _there_, blocking the blade's path. And he shatters.

All Yato can do is watch in horror and scream Yukine's name. He collapses to his knees and clutches at his chest as if he can hold the pieces of his breaking heart together with his hand.

"Do you understand now, Yato?" Bishamon asks in a flat, empty voice. "The agony of having your shinki ripped away from you? Allow me to put you out of your misery."

This isn't how it was supposed to be. Yato was supposed to protect Yukine, and now Yukine is _dead_. Again. Yato had finally, finally found someone to hold close and care for, and now…

(Why does everyone he dares to love die? (Because all you're really good at is killing. Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

His thoughts grind to an abrupt halt. Yukine's name…isn't fading? Yukine is dead, he has to be, but a surge of wild, dangerous hope wells in Yato's chest.

"Sekki!"

And Yukine is _back_. He's back and has evolved into two blades and is perfectly fine, as if he wasn't just shattered into pieces right in front of Yato's eyes. He's _alive_.

The aftershocks of grief and guilt still rattle Yato's bones, but he doesn't have time to worry about things like that so he lets the relief and determination and pride surge through him instead.

"I'm going to brag to everyone when we get back!" he says.

And he does.

He brags to Tenjin and his shinki, to Kofuku and Daikoku and anyone who will listen. "That's my kid! He's a genius, huh? Isn't he so cool? Are you guys jealous? You don't have anything like him!"

Yukine flushes and ducks his head and smiles under the praise, and everyone showers attention on him. Yato hangs around on the sidelines and watches with a small smile.

He doesn't even care when Tenjin and some of the others lament that _he_, such a worthless god, obtained a hafuri. They aren't entirely wrong, and he has an uncomfortable, squirmy feeling that Yukine would not have been so quick to pledge his life and loyalty if he truly understood who Yato is.

(Really, Yato is a little bit ashamed of tricking the kid into thinking he's someone worth pledging eternal loyalty to. (You do understand, Yaboku? That everyone will leave you as soon as they realize who you _really _are? Everyone but us.))

Still, he's never had a shinki evolve for him like that, never had one that cared enough, and it warms his heart. It's a sign that his affection for the kid is not entirely one-sided, that maybe Yukine senses and appreciates the bond too.

But mostly Yato is just proud. It takes a special kind of shinki to become a hafuri, and Yukine has come so far from that lousy little brat hell-bent on stinging Yato to death. Yato wants to throw his arm around the kid and gather up everyone who said he shouldn't use such an unstable shinki, said that he should _give up_ on Yukine, and say, '_You were wrong. You wanted to give up on him, but look at him now!'_

It makes him proud to see his kid come this far, and it also gives him just a tiny little sliver of hope that if Yukine can change so much, maybe he can too.

(He really does want to change. He's been trying to escape from his old life for centuries. It's just that he isn't any good at making it on his own, and he always goes crawling back when Father calls because following orders is all he knows. (And killing is all you're good at. Stop trying to be something you aren't, Yaboku.))

"You've found it, Yato," Hiyori says with soft eyes and a bright smile. "Your one and only."

(What does that even mean? Does such a thing truly exist? (You are such good children. Go play some more. It's the three of us forever, Yaboku.))

Yato's smile brings a faint blush to his cheeks and pinches his eyes shut, and he pushes the voices out of his head. "Yup!"

* * *

Ebisu rocks the boat when he comes by to throw money around. It's _a lot _of money and it's a low blow to poke at the whole shrine issue, but Yato would never sell Yukine like that. Not even to finance a shrine.

But Yukine is thrown off balance and he hesitates. It's the money and the sudden, unexpected pressure of being a guidepost, and he takes Ebisu's card. Yato can feel his uncertainty. His inner conflict manifests itself in Yato's body as a dull ache nested just behind his eyes that's threatening to burst into a full-blown headache at any moment.

It stings, just a little, but Yato supposes this is what he gets for being a poor, good-for-nothing god that can't even provide for his shinki properly.

Yukine suggests, rather flatly, that he start charging more for his jobs, and Yato goes on the defensive. It's not about the money, he says.

(More than the money, he wants people to believe in him. Maybe even appreciate him just a little. The money is for a shrine—a shrine that will mean someone remembers him and needs him. (You don't need believers or a shrine, do you? I'm your lifeline, Yaboku. Your _only _lifeline.))

His shinki always end up quitting because of the money. Humans are just so attached to the stuff. Even Yukine, it seems.

"If you want to go to Ebisu's place, then just go…"

Yato doesn't want Yukine to go, not really, but… But if that's what the kid wants…

(Yato's father will never let him go. (You belong to me, _Yaboku_.))

If that's what Yukine wants, Yato will let him go.

Yato is resigning himself to this turn of events, but then Yukine takes all that money Ebisu gave them and throws it off the top of a building to lure out the greedy ayakashi they're hunting.

"I think you would be in trouble if Nora was your guidepost," he says, half to himself. "If it's going to be me or her, then…I want to get stronger."

Yato pauses in his tracks, money forgotten for the moment. This kid—_his _kid—has really changed a lot, and Yato is proud of him.

(But Yukine is wrong. Hiiro was never Yato's guidepost. She only passes along orders and keeps him on track. (Yaboku, you're going to be a good boy and do as I say, right?))

And he's _pretty _sure this means Yukine is here to stay, and he's relieved enough that he drops the money when his kid tells him to, even if it means giving up on his shrine for a little while longer. Today, he'll give up a shrine to gain an exemplar.

That Hiyori then turns around and makes a tiny shrine for him with her own two hands is the miracle he never saw coming. He holds it in his hands and cries.

(He wishes Sakura could see him now, a changed god with a wonderful kid to be his guidepost and a real human believer who made him the shrine no one else ever would. (Don't be silly. You don't need believers or shrines or troublesome shinki leading you astray, Ya– (Take that, Father.)))

* * *

**Note: This was also originally a one-shot, but it got long and I was too lazy to cut it down, so now it's two parts. And as a random note, it's not a coincidence that there are so many rhetorical questions in the parenthetical asides. It's bad enough to tell someone bad things about themselves, and even worse to basically prod them into agreeing with them. Or, it's sort of a more concrete manifestation of that internal shift that takes place when you're told something long enough that you start to believe it and acquire them as your own beliefs and thoughts. Those aren't just his father's words anymore, but _Yato's_.**

**Anyway, this is very Yato-and-Yukine-centric, but it also became very Yato-centric in that way, with more of a focus on how his developing relationship with Yukine helps him grow and work past his own trauma too. It got kinda stream-of-consciousness at times X)**


	2. Part 2

**.**

**Part 2**

* * *

The call comes in the dead of night. Yato tells Yukine to go back to sleep and then slips out the window to walk down to Hiiro's favorite river.

(He should have known better than to get cocky. It seems like Father can always tell when things are going too well. He lets Yato's leash spool out just enough for him to _hope_ and then reels him back in. It's like a game, timing the summons to land just when things are too good to be true. (Time to come home, Yaboku. I've got work for you.))

She's waiting for him. She smiles when he says her name. They work well together, just as they always have.

"I have to tell you, Hiiro… I want this to be the last time I work with you."

He has a shrine and an exemplar. He has Hiyori and Yukine. Doing this, working with Hiiro to kill, is like a betrayal to them. Yato wants to be able to stand on his own, without the killing. Without Father.

Hiiro's smile stays in place, but a black shadow crosses her face. When the masked ayakashi lunge for him from the shadows and he calls her name, she smiles and stands there and watches. She only kneels beside him once the ayakashi have chewed on him thoroughly and the stinging blight has sunk its little needle-teeth into his body.

She takes him back home.

(It's a betrayal to Yukine and Hiyori, but… (You are an evil god, Yaboku. Will Hiyori and Yukine continue to like you even so? Come home to us. We'll love you when no one else will.))

And he shuts up and follows orders like a good boy, because that's how it's always been and that's really all he's good for and if he does as he's told, they'll give him back a little of his freedom sooner or later.

He shuts up and follows orders like a good boy, right up until he realizes that time has been passing and Yukine will be mad and Hiyori might have forgotten him. He pitches a fit, the first of such severity that he's dared pitch in centuries, and Father dangles a threadbare, moth-eaten promise before him. A promise that threatens to shrivel up and vanish into thin air if he looks too closely.

He will be free–

(But really, will he ever? (You belong to _me_, Yaboku.))

–if he goes to the underworld.

* * *

It's the last straw, what Father has made him do to Ebisu. Somewhere down in the yawning depths of Yomi, Yato gained a deep, fierce respect for Ebisu. Ebisu is the kind of god Yato wishes he could be, the kind that makes people happy. Yato has always wanted to make people happy—his mistake was that he tried giving that happiness to Father and Hiiro, who were only satisfied if he took it away from everyone else.

He thought that maybe he was finally doing something right, that he was saving Ebisu because _he _wanted to and not just because Father gave him orders, but it's all smoke and mirrors.

When Yato wakes in Bishamon's house and finds himself face to face with a small child, Ebisu's new incarnation, he realizes suddenly what he has done. He rescued Ebisu for the purpose of handing him over to the heavens in Father's place.

And it hurts, that he was part of that. It's horrible. And Hiyori is sad and Yukine is upset, and was it really worth all this?

He walks down to the river in the dead of night and releases Hiiro.

(He feels bad for feeling bad about it—he loved Hiiro, once upon a time, and she loves him in her own twisted way—but it's also such a relief to have finally let her go. (We've been together forever, Yaboku. We're a _family_.))

The threats she leaves behind are not empty.

Still, Yato has finally taken a stand, taken measures to break away and gain his freedom. He knows, deep down in his heart, that he would never have had the courage if it wasn't for Yukine and Hiyori.

Whether he gets to keep them is up in the air.

They have questions about his disappearance. Yukine, especially. Yato can feel the kid's turmoil. Yukine is upset that Yato disappeared without a word and left him behind in favor of Nora. He's upset that Yato never told him his true name. He's upset that Yato didn't trust him enough to tell him anything.

So Yato tells him. Him and Hiyori. He can't keep hiding it forever, and they deserve to have some idea of what they're dealing with. He only tells them the barest gist of it, really. He tells them about his father and his name and his killing. He says nothing about the ears or Sakura or the words that still bounce around inside his skull to this day.

But he tells them enough and draws a line for them to cross or not, take it or leave it.

(They're too kind, but this will be a bitter pill for even them to swallow. Yato can't look at them when he spills his secrets. He's too ashamed, and he doesn't want to see the looks on their faces. (No one will really love you for who you are, Yaboku. We're all you've got.))

They take it. Yukine ruins the serious atmosphere with his teasing and Hiyori says she believes Yato can be anything he wants to be.

Yato can't believe that Father was wrong.

Later, when they talk in the night, Yukine shakes his head and walks to Yato's side. Yato doesn't look up from the shrine in his hands. It's shameful enough to bare his secrets to anyone, but especially to his kid. That feels like such a failure.

"You can keep asking as many times as you want, but the answer will always be the same," Yukine says. "I'm your guidepost. I'm not going anywhere."

Yato wants to cry.

* * *

Yukine has Yato on a fast track to becoming a bona fide god of fortune, but Father does not let this state of affairs stand.

(Father does not approve of anyone who is a 'bad' influence on Yato. (Yaboku, you belong to me, listen to me, obey _me_.))

When the ayakashi swarm the hospital and Hiyori wavers and begins slipping over the line, it feels like there's no way to win. Yato can't let her cross over, but he doesn't know if he's done the right thing in pulling her back. She can live again, but Father has thrown her entire life into disarray.

(And it's Yato's fault, because Father is only targeting her because of him. He knew he should have cut ties, but he was too selfish to do it. She calls him her god of fortune later, but it only makes him feel worse. (You're a god who only knows how to take. You bring misfortune everywhere you go. It's your fault, Yaboku. Isn't that right?))

And Yukine is struck by Chiki in the fray. There is a crack in his name. Not a big one, but a dangerous one. It's a ticking time bomb. Yato shouldn't have let him be struck at all—how could he have been so _stupid_?—and blocks the next hit with his arm. Yukine yells at him, but Yato can't—_can't_—let it happen again.

He's terrified.

(This can't happen again, he can't take it, it's just like Sakura. Please, _please_ don't let this happen to Yukine too. Please, _please_ leave his kid alone. It's his fault again and he should've released Yukine instead of getting attached, but he's just so _selfish_ and now his kid is going to die because Yato is only good at killing and he brings misfortune everywhere and he's just so pathetic that he can't even protect his own kid. (Why would you do that, Yaboku? You knew it was wrong, didn't you? This ugly beast is what lurks inside all humans. It's why we cull the herd. So put this wretched beast out of its misery and– (Stop, stop, _stop!_)))

He keeps a close eye on Yukine after, looking for any sign that the deadly secret is creeping in through the cracks and sinking its teeth into his fragile human heart. He has failed to protect his kid in a most devastating fashion. Yukine has only brought Yato joy and been his guiding light, and in return Yato has brought him danger and pain.

Yato might think Bishamon is a fool for unsealing that mythical hafuri and launching an attack on Father that brings the heavens down on her head, but he knows why she does it. She might think he's callous for his warnings about Tsuguha, but the truth is that he understands her pain better than almost anyone. He has already lost a beloved shinki to this most terrible of secrets, and he is poised to lose another.

(What happens to Tsuguha is not meant as a strike against Bishamon, not really. It is a warning for Yato. (Time to stop with the rebellions, or I'll remove the root of the problem. It's your choice, and whatever comes of it will be your fault. So, what's it going to be, Yaboku?))

Bishamon is one crazy bitch, but she's Yato's drinking buddy and he's rather fond of her in a secretive, masochistic way. Jumping into the fray to fight on her side against the heavens might not be the brightest idea he's ever had, but it feels _right_.

Except that Yukine panics when she comes too close to killing Father, and he lashes out with enough desperation to rend the very heavens. And, just for a moment when his kid loses his way, Yato is Yaboku again and feels the need to slice through anything and everything in his path.

(Yaboku scares Yato. Yaboku was just an excitable kid who didn't know right from wrong and was eager to please Father and Hiiro by playing games with swords, but he belonged to Father and was all the more dangerous for it. Yato has spent centuries trying to escape that dark, dangerous, painfully naïve part of himself and has generally done a shoddy job of it, but Yukine has always helped keep it in check right up until now. (What nonsense is that, letting a shinki name you? You are Yaboku, you will always be Yaboku, and your name and life belong to _me_.))

It frightens Yukine too, that he came so close to killing Bishamon, but Yato reassures him that she can't be dead yet or she would have reincarnated on the spot. Yukine is Yato's pride and joy as a hafuri, but he's also still a teary-eyed kid. And Yato is sorry, so sorry, because he wants to protect him more than anyone.

He is not surprised when Amaterasu orders him to be executed, because he has denounced the heavens and that is an automatic death sentence. But the _box_, the stone _coffin_, that they seal Yukine in—_that_ Yato didn't see coming.

The effect is immediate. Yato's heart pounds erratically, his chest constricts like a vise until he can't breathe, and the pain and sheer _panic _drive him to his knees as he clutches at his head. He can _feel _Yukine's suffering. He can _hear _his kid crying out for help, begging Yato to help him.

_"Help me! Let me out! Yato! Help me, Yato! Yato!"_

Yukine is terrified of the dark, Yukine is suffering now like he did _then_, Yukine is going to _break_. And all Yato can do is tremble in a ball on the ground and _beg _Amaterasu to let him out. He will not beg for his own life, but he will beg for Yukine's.

(For once, just _once_, he wishes Father was wrong and he could protect someone. (But Yaboku, all you really know is slaughter, right?))

He can do absolutely _nothing_ but sit back and watch while the heavens play a sick game with the lives and deaths of shinki to determine whether they should be pardoned. Yato wants them to save Yukine, he's grateful that everyone is coming together to save his kid when he can't, but he wants it to _stop _because it's so _wrong_.

He wants to save Yukine himself, and also Daikoku, whose head might be about to go flying, but it's Takemikazuchi, of all people, that yanks him back and talks him down when he lunges for the bitch who locked his kid in a box to rot for eternity. She is the ruler of the heavens, but he will never forgive her for what she has done to Yukine.

Daikoku's head stays firmly in place on his shoulders, the pardon is issued, the box is opened. All Yato can focus on is rushing to gather Yukine in his arms. He buries his face in his kid's hair and chokes out his strangled gratitude to the ones who saved him while he fights back tears.

Yukine is safe.

But his eyes are wide and glassy and panicked, and fear still winds around Yato's chest like thorny vines that continue to strangle and tighten.

Everything seems to go back to normal after that, but Yato keeps a close watch on Yukine. He's afraid that the experience with the box might bring memories burbling to the surface and chip away at a very dangerous secret. Yato wasn't able to protect Yukine from the box, but he resolves to protect him from this most terrible fate.

(He's afraid that if it gets to the point where things really begin surfacing, there will be absolutely nothing he can do to stop it. He is just as helpless as ever, but he's going to _try_. (Why are you always trying to fight the inevitable, Yaboku?))

Yato's utter inability to protect his kid smacks him in the face mere days later, when they go to check in on Bishamon. One minute Yukine wanders off to look for Kazuma, and the next there is blinding terror sending Yato's heart into spasms and his kid's screams are ringing through the air.

It's like the box again and Yato _has to save his kid, he can't fail his kid again_.

He drops everything and runs like lightning, tracking down the cries and fear to a cluttered storeroom pitched into darkness. Yukine is too panicked to be aware of his surroundings as he wails and scratches in desperation to escape, and Yato rushes for him.

"It's okay! It's okay, it's me!"

He guides Yukine back out into the light. They both collapse onto the grass, still reeling and gasping from their shared fear, as Hiyori looks on anxiously.

This is all Yato's fault. He stuck his nose in when he shouldn't have, and Yukine is suffering because of it.

"Yato," Hiyori says earnestly, leaning in even though he refuses to straighten his hunched shoulders and bowed head, "the reason Yukine was saved is precisely because you've worked so hard for everyone else. It was because of everything you did for them that they were willing to lend you their strength. So why are you being so hard on yourself?"

What Yato has done for them? She must be joking. Yato hasn't done a damn thing.

(He doesn't _help _people. He only ever causes problems. (You're a magatsukami, Yaboku. What did you expect?))

"I… All I did was watch." Yato grinds his teeth together in impotent self-loathing. "He was right there in front of me, and I didn't do a damn thing. I could hear him the whole time, calling for help…"

He had known exactly how much Yukine was suffering, and he hadn't been able to do _anything_. He had wanted so desperately to protect his kid, and he had been utterly _useless_. He had done absolutely _nothing_ while Yukine cried and screamed and suffered. When Yukine had begged for Yato's help, Yato had abandoned him and let his cries go unanswered.

Yato had tried so hard, but in the end… In the end, he is really no better than Yukine's father, or even his own.

A small hand touches his back and clutches his jersey. "Yato," Yukine says in a wavering voice, "if you really hadn't done anything, I'd still be in that box right now. You protected me! You beat Takemikazuchi, you saved Bishamon, you silenced heaven… You did all those amazing things, so what is there to be ashamed of? Are you stupid?"

Yukine, this precious kid, tries so hard. Yato doesn't deserve his unwavering loyalty, but he wishes he did.

What Yukine doesn't realize is that none of those so-called amazing things matter when Yato failed at the one that mattered the most.

"Ah, who cares about any of that now?" Yato turns back to pull Yukine into a hug. And if his smile is a little broken, no one seems to notice. "Sorry about that."

It's a good thing that Yato isn't really a father, because he's terrible at it.

* * *

Yato, Yukine, and Hiyori are headed home after helping Kunimi rescue a kidnapped Ebisu when it hits Yato how dark it has gotten, with only the moon and stars shedding pale light on the night shadows.

"Oh crap," he says. "I didn't realize how late it had gotten. Are you alright, Yukine?"

Yukine flushes and grumbles, and the tips of his ears are red with embarrassment. "Ugh, you don't have to treat me like a kid anymore. I'm fine."

Right, maybe he shouldn't be Yato's kid anymore, but…Yato wants him anyway.

"So, you haven't been having any weird dreams lately?" Yato asks as casually as possible. He's fishing to see if the memories are surfacing, if the box is pushing them up and Yukine is breaking.

"Dreams?" Yukine asks, puzzled. He furrows his brow in thought, and Yato realizes this wasn't his smoothest segue.

"If you don't remember, that's fine!"

"They were kind of scary," Yukine muses. "But if I looked harder, you were there. So if I had a dream, it was a comforting one."

Yato puzzles that over. Maybe Yukine has just been dreaming of the box, then? Yato might figure into those, if only because he was there when the kid was rescued and found him during the incident at Bishamon's place after.

The dreams Yato is worried about are ones that might contain fragments of memory. But he doesn't see how he would fit into any dreams about Yukine's father, so maybe they aren't surfacing yet.

Still, he puzzles over Yukine's comment for a long time, wondering what it means.

* * *

Hiyori is at school when they receive word that Bishamon is finally awake, but Yato and Yukine rush right over. The crazy bitch is still confined to bed and looks a mess, but they gather around and Yato even does his best not to be _too _annoying.

Yukine apologizes profusely for nearly killing her, and Yato can feel his shame and guilt as a weight in his chest. Bishamon is watching them with a rather funny expression, but then shakes her head.

"Be that as it may," she grumbles, "I also heard that you stood up against the heavens and refused to let them kill me."

Yato shrugs, eyes flat. "It's not a big deal. Everyone came together to win a covenant with heaven in the end. That's what saved you. And us."

"Don't listen to him," Yukine says with an exhale of annoyance. He turns back to Bishamon with a wide grin. "Yato was totally amazing! He beat Takemikazuchi and forced him to help us parley with the heavens to save you. And then he actually _silenced _the heavens! You should have heard him scolding everyone! Everyone came together to save us in the end, but none of it would have happened if he didn't stand up to the heavens like that, even when it looked like there was no way to win. He saved you…and me…"

His eyes are wide and shine with excitement and _pride_, and Yato blinks at him in bemusement.

Yukine notices the attention and flushes. "What?" he grumbles, remembering again that he is a teenager.

Yato laughs a little sheepishly, just a soft huff colored with disbelief. "You know, I think that's the first time anyone has been proud of me."

(Father praises Yato sometimes, but his eyes never shine like Yukine's do now. The praise was always one more manipulation, and there's no need to take pride in a tool that does the job it's supposed to. (Good boy, Yaboku. Go collect some more ears for Daddy now, alright?))

Yato doesn't see a whole lot to be proud of in his abysmal performance, but it's a funny, warming feeling to see Yukine's eyes shine with pride the same way Yato imagines his eyes shine when he brags about his kid. Considering that Yukine always thought Yato was a worthless, good-for-nothing god, they sure have come a long way.

Yukine, meanwhile, stares. "…Are you serious? You really don't pay attention to anything, do you? Lots of people think highly of you. Although goodness knows why, when you're such an idiot."

Yato scratches his head and smiles awkwardly and wonders why this topic is making him so uncomfortable when he's always wanted people to appreciate him.

(He had always wanted his father's attention, wanted to make his father proud and happy, and had gone to great, futile lengths for that purpose as a kid. Anything he received in return seems so hollow, looking back. (Don't you want to make me happy, Yaboku? Then do as I say.))

Yukine's frown only deepens. "Really…? Isn't there anything you're proud of?"

"I'm proud of you!" Yato says instantly, his face brightening.

There's nothing that makes him prouder than watching his kid grow. Yukine really is an amazing kid, and that's not just bias talking. He's become so much stronger and is a much-prized hafuri, but mostly he's Yato's guiding light. What's not to be proud of?

Yukine turns red again and his gaze slips away, but he doesn't back down. "Not like that, idiot," he mumbles. "Aren't you proud of anything that _you've _done?"

"Um… I haven't really done a whole lot…"

"…Seriously? I mean, you saved _me_, when everyone else said that you should get rid of me and I kept stinging you. You didn't think that if I became a hafuri for you, it must be because you deserve that kind of loyalty?"

"Only a really exceptional shinki can become a hafuri," Yato says dismissively. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You…idiot!" Yukine jabs a finger at the god's chest and scowls, and the red tinge to his cheeks is something like anger now. "You think I'd pledge that kind of loyalty to any two-bit god that came along? I have standards!"

Yato blinks at him. He hasn't really thought of it like that before.

"You did save me a couple times," Bishamon mutters reluctantly, from where they've nearly forgotten her in the bed.

"And you've saved Hiyori loads of times," Yukine adds. "And you…" He trails off and a stricken expression crosses his face. "That's…what your dad told you, isn't it?"

Yato startles, eyes widening. "What?"

Yukine is looking at him with new eyes, mouth all twisted up in a funny expression. "That you're a god of calamity and all you're good at is killing and you only bring misfortune to everyone and no one will love you if they know who you are and you have to do what he says because he's your lifeline and you can't change no matter how hard you try. Those are all things that he told you, aren't they?"

Yato goes stiff, his breath hitching in his throat as he stares out blankly with glazed eyes.

You are mine–

You were made for killing–

Don't talk to any–

Shrines are unnecessary and–

Time to come home–

You really thought you could change your name and–

You bring misfortune with you–

Be a good boy and–

We're your family–

In the end, you won't do anything because I'm your lifeline–

Do as I say or–

No one will ever love you–

Yaboku, Yaboku, _Ya_–

"–to? Yato!"

Yato starts and sucks in a lungful of air as he remembers to breathe again. He offers his kid a shaky smile to soothe the worry in those wide amber eyes.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. It's fine."

Yukine is not reassured. "That's really horrible…"

"It's not so bad." Yato shrugs. "It's the way it's always been. You get used to it."

(It's amazing what you can get used to if you're manipulated long enough. Amazing what you can internalize, until you believe it all yourself and can never quite let go. (Isn't that right, Yaboku?))

It's amazing, really, that Yukine has picked up on all this after only a few run-ins with Father. Father has said some of these things in front of Yukine—which Yato does not like, because it's one thing to treat him like trash and another to treat him like trash in front of his kid—but others would require guesswork and thought. Yato wonders if he's really that transparent.

"That's not okay…" Yukine frowns at the ground, and Yato becomes aware of a steady, throbbing ache in his chest. He wants to tell Yukine not to worry so much or feel so sad. "He doesn't… He doesn't treat you like his son, you know. He treats you like a tool…or a toy, maybe."

Yato smiles through a mouthful of broken glass. "I know."

To be fair, Father does act like a father sometimes, and did so even more when Yato was a kid. He just preferred to act like…an abusive father, maybe. Yato has known for a long time that he is simply a tool for the culling of humanity and a toy for Father to play his mental and emotional games with.

Yato knows, he isn't a fool, but it's not so simple and this is the only family he's ever known.

"You shouldn't listen to him," Yukine says more firmly. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"…I know."

"Do you?" When Yato doesn't respond right away, Yukine sighs. He's staring down at the floor through his lashes, and Yato's chest is tight with his emotion. "I wish… I wish you had a father who was as good to you as you are to me. I think you…deserve a father like the one I have."

Yato goes absolutely still. Yukine doesn't remember his father—and if he did, he certainly wouldn't be praising him—so when he says that he has to mean…

Yukine's cheeks are bright pink again and his arms are crossed defensively over his chest and he refuses to meet Yato's eyes. Yato stares, wide-eyed, and his breath catches in his throat and his lips tremble.

"Yukine…"

"This is so disgustingly sweet that it's making me sick," Bishamon grumbles from where they have both _completely _forgotten her this time. "But the kid has a point."

For all Yato's failures, Yukine still…

Yato catches his kid in his arms and holds him close, clutching him tightly and pretending his eyes aren't damp. Any words that might be clamoring inside his head are drowned out by the too-fast thumping of his heart and the echo of Yukine's words.

If there's anything he's proud of, it's his kid. And if his kid is proud of him for anything, that's more than enough. But if there's anything he has to be proud of _himself _for, it's giving Yukine something like a father—even if he's not perfect, he has tried his hardest and he overcame his own father's example and he's brought his kid some kind of happiness, which is all he ever really wanted—and helping raise him into the precious, wonderful kid he is today.

And he wonders if this is what family is _supposed_ to feel like.


End file.
